Hidden drawers
by Britishmenarehot
Summary: There is a drawer hidden away, found on the highest shelf of Sherlock Holmes's mind palace. A place where he seldom wanders to. It is a drawer he keeps locked unless its information is utterly necessary. It is a place that stores all the information on a his favorite pathologist, Molly Hooper.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There is a drawer hidden away, found on the highest shelf of Sherlock Holmes's mind palace. A place where he seldom wanders to. It is a drawer he keeps locked unless its information is utterly necessary. It is a place that stores all the information on a his favorite pathologist, Molly Hooper. This drawer is filled with snippets of conversations and snapshots of the said pathologist. It is something that he never speaks of, and only goes to during times of great duress or happiness. He finds comfort in her smile, her words, her touch, when the pain is too much for him to bear. Whether it be the pain from drug withdrawal or a gunshot, he uses this drawer to isolate himself, almost as if it protects him. He has never been able to delete the drawer or its contents. Even if he tried, it is permanently nailed to the walls of his mind palace. This drawer is more permanent than anything else he has stored away. Even more permanent than the drawer of John Watson. Although his drawer is strong and full of contents, the drawer could be emptied if it had to. He could delete it, he could separate himself from John Watson and all the memories they created.

Everyone once in awhile, when it is a quiet night, he goes to that drawer. Usually after a case that gave him a major high, similar to the 7% solution cocaine high, he closes his eyes, steeples his hands and begins to sort through the drawer. He usually starts with the first time he met the young pathologist.

He had just finished his last time in rehab, forced onto him by D.I. Lestrade and his brother Mycroft. He arrived at Bart's hospital hoping to perform a few experiments with the help of his friend Mike Stamford. And when he said friend, he really meant lab rat. He wasn't friends with him, nor anyone else. Walking into the lab he found a young brunette hovered over a dead body, slowing cutting it open in a careful Y pattern. She didn't have a look of disgust on her face but of fascination. That was what caught his eye from the start. Her expression of delight as she cut into the dead body.

"33. Female. And from the looks of it a habitual blackberry user, died from an vehicular impact" he said out loud. It would seem like he was talking to her, but he really just wanted to put the fact out into the universe. She just happened to be there.

"A blackberry user?" she said not looking up, but he could see her eyes travel to the corpse's hands, seeing the signs of carpal tunnel syndrome, "Oh I see that now"

She looked up to see a pair of piercing blue green eyes fixed on her. She blushed feverishly before putting her head back down. She had heard of Sherlock Holmes from other pathologists in the lab, but she had yet to meet him until now. Her pulse began to elevate, and she couldn't seem to find any words to speak out loud.

"Dr. Hooper, can you confirm that she died from an auto accident" he asked her wanting to verify his deduction.

"How did you know…?" she asked before he cut her off

"I saw your name tag," he replied almost lazily.

"Oh. Yes, right…" she began to stutter, "Yes she, she was hit by a car."

"Ahh so accident, I hope they didn't charge the driver, she clearly was looking at her phone when it happened and didn't see the car coming"

"I don't know… I'm just doing the autopsy"

"Do you think…" he paused trying to think of the best approach, "Do you think you could get me her hands?"

"What?" she asked confused.

"Do you think I could experiment on her hands, I have been dying to see the effects of carpal tunnel on the bone. I would like to see if it changes the molecular structures of the bones."

"I'm… not sure that the family has released the body for science," she said as she took off her gloves and grabbed the chart.

"Well… Is the family coming in today?"

"I think later."

"Well if they do agree", which he knew they would. He would turn on his charm to convince them.

"I don't know if I can?" she paused. "but if you don't tell. I won't tell"

He gave her best smile before leaving the lab the way he came in. He knew that this was a start to a beautiful connection at St. Barts.

It was a short interaction, but she was different than most women he encountered. Sure she stumbled on her words around him, but she had a certain quality that made her stand out to him. Her intense expression while cutting open the body burned in his brain. There was just something so raw and real about it. Similar to how he looked when he was solving a case, the focus she had was like looking in a mirror.

- PRESENT DAY-

It happened so fast. Sherlock felt the blast of the explosion impact his entire body.

"Ahhh" was the last sound he made before his body shut down, and his mind wandered into that far corner of his mind palace. The one that would keep him from falling into darkness. He opened the drawer and began to look on to the face of his mousey pathologist. He could hear voices in his head while he paged through Dr. Hoopers files, but he ignored them. The pain that he felt in his body was temporarily numbed by continuing to thumb through her file. It was a long time but he finally felt the pain recess, and the voice quiet. Usually when he is finished with Molly's file, he was able to shut it and go back to himself. The cool, calm self, that kept his mind sharp and his heart hidden. This time, he found that the door jammed. He couldn't close it. No matter how many times he tried, the drawer wouldn't close, and the pictures of Molly Hooper kept escaping into other sections of his mind palace.

Three days later, Sherlock's hand slowly twitched. He was feeling groggy, and unable to really open his eyes. The effort it took to breathe seemed to overwhelm him. But after each breathe, it became easier and easier to do. He began to focus on opening his eyes. It seemed too big of a task though and gave up. He breathed in again. He could feel the wires attached to his chest, and the needle in his arm. The pain was bearable due to the pain medication coming through the IV.

He heard the movement of a newspaper. John? Or possibly Mycroft. He wouldn't know for sure until he opened his eyes. Slowly, his eyes began to flutter open. His breathing became deeper and strained because of his concentration.

He was a very bright room, it was obviously midday judging by the location of the sun near his bed. Finally he seemed to have the strength to keep his eyes open and he slowly moved his head to turn towards the rustling newspaper. To his surprise, it wasn't John or Mycroft. It was Molly Hooper.

She jumped out of her seat when she glanced over at Sherlock. She assumed he was still unconscious. But when she saw his piercing eyes staring straight at her, blinking rapidly, she ran out the door calling for a nurse. She rushed back into the room after locating said nurses, "Sherlock. Oh thank goodness." Her eyes glistening with tears, but she was trying to fight them. She knew how much he disapproved of silly things like tears.

He struggled trying to sit up a little, but found that his left arm was wrapped in a heavy cast preventing him from sitting up properly.

"Don't try to sit up yet" Molly said to him, "The doctors will be here shortly"

He nodded slowly, unable to speak, his mouth being so dry.  
"I would give you ice chips, Sherlock but I want to wait to see what the doctors say" she said to him, "I know I'm a doctor, but I'm not your doctor" she added, she was prepared to see the cold stare ordering her to get him ice chips. It never came.

The doctors began running tests, and the nurse started giving Sherlock ice chips, which gave him great relief from the dry mouth he was suffering from. He could begin to form words, "Mmmmooolly?" he asked when he couldn't see her among the barrage of nurses and doctors. "Molly?" he asked again a little louder.

"She is out in the hall, I think she is calling Dr. Watson and your brother" one of the nurses told him.  
He sighed wanting Molly to be near him. As soon as the nurses and doctors were done with him, Molly came back into the room.

"Sherlock?" she asked apprehensively.  
"Molly!" he said almost desperately, "Thank god." he reached his hand out to her, and she quickly took it although in quite a shock that it was offered in the first place.

"Molly, what happened. Where is John? He is OK?" he asked desperately.

"He's fine. He is coming to hospital, along with Mary and Mycroft" she paused, "Do you not remember what happened?"

"I think I do, but I don't know for sure" he said to her. She looked at him incredulously. She never heard him say that in his life. Always absolutely sure about everything, Molly never once heard him say those words, "I don't know."

"What do you think happened?" she asked him softly still holding onto his hand. She had expected him to pull away at anytime but he didn't.

"I know I went into the abandoned mine, and it exploded. Is that what happened?" he asked.

"Something like that" Molly told him, "You were chasing that John Baker, and the mine just exploded. He is dead, and you are lucky to be alive"

"I am lucky" he told her still holding her hand. It was nice, holding her hand. He wondered when he would have to let go. Would he let go when his brother came into the room? He hoped that she wouldn't leave when Mycroft arrived.

At that moment John walked in. He heard Sherlock tell Molly he was lucky. He never said that. Sherlock was always on the side of reason, and planning. Nothing was chance or luck.

"Sherlock!" he said as he rounded his bed to the opposite side of Molly, his eyes on their interlocked hands.

"John, what a relief, you are alright" Sherlock said looking at his best friend.  
"Of course I am alright, you didn't let me go chasing after Baker with you. You deduced that if we were to both chase him, that we would get stuck in the abandoned mine, and not be able to get out"

"Right" Sherlock said remembering the events slowly, "But I'm still glad you are ok"

That was the second odd thing John heard him say.

"Mary and Mycroft are on their way, and Mrs Hudson sends her love. She is puttering about getting the flat all situated for your return, although I warned her you would be unhappy if she touched anything"  
"That is nice of her" Sherlock said, "I hope she doesn't go through much trouble though. I would hate to be a burden"

Ok, that was just weird, John thought.

"Listen, I'm going to get a cup of tea from the lounge, Molly would you like anything?" John asked.  
"Coffee would be great" Molly told him gratefully, she wasn't about to let go of Sherlock's hand voluntarily.  
"Right" John said as he headed toward the door.

"She takes milk with it" Sherlock yelled out to John as he exited.

John walked as fast as he could to the canteen. Sherlock's peculiar behavior was more disturbing than all the needles and machines hooked up to him. He wondered if the blow to his head caused more damage than expected. If Sherlock lost his powers of deduction, how big of a blow would it be to him?

While John was away getting coffee, Mycroft Holmes wandered into Sherlock's room. He saw the two hands of Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes clasped together, and almost did a second take. But being Mycroft, he had to appear calm and cool in front of his brother. Any sign of weakness was always an excuse for Sherlock to prod him. Didn't he know that Mycroft did everything in his power to keep him out of hospitals? Out of danger?

"Ahh little brother, you are awake. How are we feeling this afternoon" he asked calmly, hiding any hint of concern in his voice, he fully expected to hear a sarcastic remark, or a complaint of how he didn't come to his aide him quicker.

"I'm a little sore, Mycroft, but I would be in worse shape if you didn't intervene like you did. I am grateful" Sherlock told him giving his brother a little smile. He was still holding on to Molly's hand for dear life. Her hand felt like a lifeline. The only thing that felt familiar in the room full of machines and tubes.

"Riiight" Mycroft stumbled utterly shocked by Sherlock's response.

"Right" he said again, righting his tone of voice. "I'm glad you are feeling better. Any chance you know who blew up the mine?" Mycroft asked seeking how much more his brother's brain had been altered by his injuries.

"It was John Baker, he realized the game was up, and thought he could bring me with. That way his wife could get the insurance money. She could claim that it was accident if the explosion took me with. I was the only one knew their secret." Sherlock told Mycroft without skipping a beat, just like he always delivered is deductions and solutions.

"I see" Mycroft said as he sat down, he needed to a second to deduce what was going on with his brother. It seemed that his mind was still working just fine. It just seemed like he was softer. Mycroft didn't miss the quick glance Sherlock made to Molly making sure she wasn't horrified by his answer. Lucky for both of them, she had a steel stomach and never prone to shock.

"You told John you didn't know what happened" Molly said to him confused.

"I didn't want him to feel bad about not following me. I didn't want him to get hurt" Sherlock explained. Mycroft and Molly nodded dumbly to this shocking amount of sentiment.

"Are the nurses and doctors" Mycroft paused eyeing Molly hand which was still glued to Sherlock's, "treating you alright?"

"Oh they are just fine," Sherlock told his brother, "I'm sure I don't need to be here much longer though? I do know a few good doctors myself that could possibly help with my recovery?" Sherlock said squeezing Molly's hand for good measure, "I don't want to be filling hospital beds that are needed by others"  
"I'm sure Miss Hooper" Mycroft began.

"Dr. Hooper" Sherlock interrupted. Molly smiled a little at Sherlock for sticking up for her.

"My apologies, Dr. Hooper has many other things to do besides taking care of you dear brother."  
"I know she does" Sherlock said to his brother, "But I was hoping maybe you could arrange a possible sabbatical for Dr. Hooper? Maybe she could get some of her research done while aiding in my recovery? I would ask John, but I know that would be upsetting to Mary, so soon before her due date."  
Mycroft eyed Sherlock, unsure what his motives were.

"Well, why don't we ask the good doctor now" Mycroft said looking at Molly.  
"What? Oh I don't know. What about Toby?" she asked.

"He can come to Bakers Street too if that is suitable, I always had a soft spot for that creature, when I was stayed with you" Sherlock told her.

"Do you think you could get be some time off Mycroft? I know the hospital is running low on staff." she asked next. She had a list of items that needed to be crossed off before she could agree to this insane arrangement. A whole month or possibly more with Sherlock, alone, in his flat. Alone, just the two of them. Before when he camped out at her flat, he was always glued to his laptop. Never really bothering to talk to her, only using her flat and her as a base nothing more. This time, he would be reliant on her to help him eat, sleep, and bathe. She gulped a little at the last one. Sherlock was one who didn't like to be touched or manhandled. He was the most independent person she had ever met. And now he was asking for her help with his own body and mind.

"Consider it taken care of, and your position will be quite secure when you return" Mycroft assured her, "It really is just down to whether or not you can stand taking care of Sherlock, he can be such a baby when it comes to pain" Mycroft thought he would try to get a rise of Sherlock, get that cold reasoning look back in his eyes, make the world right side up again.

"I am a big baby, Mycroft and John can attest to that," Sherlock said giving her a smile and a little wink, "But I'll try to be as agreeable as possible. I will do whatever it is you ask of me Molly."

Both Molly and Mycroft's mouths hung open by that last statement. Molly's mind wandered for a split second when he said, I will do whatever it is you ask of me. That was something out every daydream she had had of him.

"Right" Mycroft said before standing up and grabbing his umbrella, "Let me go talk to the doctors and see when I can get you released. Also, Dr. Hooper, I can help you relocate to Baker Street before he is released. My people will call you."

She nodded. From what she heard of Mycroft, she knew that her stuff would be relocated by this afternoon.

"Don't forget to have someone feed Toby!" she yelled out to Mycroft as he exited, and she saw his umbrella lift up in a positive response.

Mycroft soon summoned Sherlock's doctors, who assured him that there was no permanent brain damage, and that he could be released in a few days.

"He just seems a little different" Mycroft told the doctor, "I mean he seems to remember everything, but he just seems different. Softer. Like the little brother I used to know, before..." he trailed off not wanting to disclose family trifles.  
The doctor chuckled, "It'll come back, sometimes certain areas of the brain stay dormant, but it will come back"

"Thank you doctor" Mycroft said before swiftly exiting the hospital. This worried him more. He worried for his brother and Molly Hooper. Which one will be ruined when the real Sherlock Holmes returned?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Sherlock was at a loss on how to plan John's stag night, and the one person that he knew wouldn't laugh at him was Molly. She was engaged to Tom at the time, and he remembered that he didn't like that man. Although he didn't know why, yes he knew he was an idiot, but why did he care?_

_He walked into the lab seeing Molly doing an experiment.  
"I need your help," he told her as she looked up from the samples she was examining._

"_I don't have your feet yet, the family wants to have a viewing first" she responded. _

"_No" he said and then gathered his thoughts, "I need your help, and I am trying to plan John's stag night"_

_He waited for her to laugh, but she didn't. _

"_I was thinking, murder scenes"_

"_Murder scenes? Locations of murders?" she looked at him skeptically._

"_Hmm pub crawl themed" he said justifying his idea, but her expression didn't change._

"_Yeah, but why can't you just do underground stations?" she asked him; he always seemed to make run of the mill things just a little odder than they should be. And part of her was pleased he at least decided to do something a little conventional, even if it was murder scenes._

"_It lacks the personal touch! We are going to go for a drink" he started to explain._

"_In every street where you found a corpse!" she finished his explanation. _

"_Delightful, where do I come in?" she asked him unsure of what he wanted from her._

"_I don't want to get ill that would ruin it, spoil the mood" his vulnerability shining through to Molly for split second but she was being strong. She had a fiancé and a dog, and she was no longer going to date sociopaths. She would keep telling herself that._

"_You're a graduate chemist, can't you just work it out?" she asked him. _

"_I lack the practical experience," he told and her eyes narrowed at him not liking where this conversation was going._

"_Meaning you think I like I drink?"_

"_Occasionally" Sherlock said unsure why she was getting this way. Her eyes were clouding over and her lips pursed._

"_That I am a drunk?" she snapped at him, but she stopped herself from saying more._

"_No! No!" Sherlock backtracked; he didn't mean that at all. He just wanted her help. Originally he was just trying to say that she just had more knowledge in the going out and having drinks department. He had to butter her up again so she would help him. Somehow the words didn't express his motivation at all, and she was getting upset. _

"_You look well" he said unable to think of anything else to say. It wasn't like that times before where he could comment on her change in hairstyle, or her new jumper._

"_I am" she responded giving him a small smile._

"_Hows….." Sherlock took advantage of her smile, but couldn't think of the imbecile's name, "Tom?"_

"_Not a sociopath"_

"_Still good" he added giving her a winning smile._

"_And we are having quite a lot of sex" she added to throw him for a loop._

"_Ok" Sherlock almost choked before giving her the strangest look. What do normal people say to that? How do you respond to such a comment, but then he realized that she said that to get this exact response._

"_How you calculate John's ideal intact, and mine remaining in the sweet spot most of the evening" he plowed through the awkwardness, he realized she was going to help him. _

"_Light headed good"_

"_Urinating in wardrobes, bad" Molly added before they began to calculate how much beer John and Sherlock could drink each hour to maintain the right blood alcohol level. _

_They worked the rest of the afternoon quietly, only commenting on notes they made._

"_So you never go out to the pubs?" she finally asked them after they determined the right amount of liquid Sherlock could consume._

"_Not really my area" he told her not looking up from his notes._

"_Really? Why not?" she asked him._

"_There are people there, I'd rather not waste time with all that nonsense."_

"_So no people. Doesn't that get… lonely?" she asked him watching him work. _

"_I have my work, and John…" he looked at her, her eyes were so soft and warm. She genuinely cared about him. It was no longer the infatuation that she had before. "And I have you" he added, "Why bother with other people"_

"_I just…" she paused and shrugged her shoulders, "I guess you are right." She ducked her head down at the computer to work on some computations, and Sherlock watched her. She had that same expression as she did the first time he met her. The determined and steadfast attention to every detail, even though it wasn't a dead body, it still took up all her attention._

Sherlock opened his eyes in the hospital after an especially painful episode. He had lowered his dosage of morphine, and the pain in his arm and his leg was excruciating. The only way to escape it was to go to that special drawer in his mind palace, and since it wouldn't seem to close, he stopped fighting it. He recalled that day in the lab with Molly, and he remembered after getting her to help him, how comfortable it was. They worked so well together and she was always giving him good information, asking the right questions, and aiding him properly. She never seemed to want something from him, one of the few people in the world who just let him be. He always seemed to need things from her, but she never asked for anything back. He was alone at the moment in his hospital room and was hoping Molly would come back soon; she had left him to get settled in Bakers Street. If all went well, he would be able to go back home at the end of the week. Mycroft had moved all of her stuff, much to Molly's chagrin, but Mycroft had his reasons. 

As the pain rose again, Sherlock recalled the conversation he had with Molly the day before when she found that her apartment was no longer hers. The locks had been changed, and once she talked to her landlord, she found out all her stuff was moved during the night. 

"_Are you sure?" Molly asked her landlord again, "Could I just check?" _

_The landlord let her in with his keys, and she found that it was completely empty. She thanked him, and then walked back to the hospital in a fury. _

"_That man!" she exclaimed when she walked into Sherlock's room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw John and Mary there._

"_John could you give us a moment?" Sherlock asked and the Watsons nodded scooting out._

_John gave them one last look before turning to Mary in the hallway, "This new side of Sherlock is freaking me out." Mary just smiled at her husband but she liked the new Sherlock.__  
_

"_He moved all my stuff!" she said as she sat down on the bed. His hands found hers quickly and his thumb began to stroke the back of her hand. The first few times he did that it freaked Molly out, but now she was used to it. She justified that it he was just leveling the pain by focusing on something else. _

"_I thought so" Sherlock said smiling at her. The pinkness of her cheeks was something he would put in that drawer forever, "he thinks that you might be the perfect solution to John moving out"  
"But he didn't ask me! What if we end up killing each other" she said to him before looking up at the ceiling steeling herself for a moment, "I would have liked to have been consulted in this"_

"_I know, I will definitely give Mycroft a piece of my mind, but trust me I will not kill you" he said laughing, "You are the only person I could ever truly say that to."_

"_What?" she said her eyebrows furrowing, "You don't mean that"_

"_Oh Molly" he said shaking his head. But he didn't continue due to shocked expression on her face._

"_I" she opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped herself. Part of her wanted to shake him, was this all an act? Or was this genuine? He could be so manipulative when he wanted something, and she couldn't know for sure what he wanted from her. She didn't feel like she had anything to give him. _

"_What do you want from me?" she asked him finally. She relished his hand stroking hers, and hoped that her question wouldn't cause that to stop. The closeness she felt to him was unlike anything she had experienced with before. Not even close to her former fiancé, and nothing she ever expected to feel with Sherlock. Yes, she had dreamed of a feeling like that with him, but reality just seemed so much better to her now._

"_What do you mean?" he asked her confused, "I was hoping you would help me recover from my injuries" he told her, "was I unclear about that?"__  
_

"_No" she replied, "No, I just. What is the end game with this? Are you looking for a new flatmate? Are you going to get better, and then go back to the way you were before?" she asked him not knowing if he would really give her a real answer._

"_I know you think I have some master plan," he told her sitting up slightly, and she helped him put a pillow behind his back.__  
_

"_But I don't have a master plan, I just want to be near you." he paused when her face was began unreadable, "Did I say something wrong?" he asked quickly. He wanted to take back whatever he said that caused her change in expression.__  
_

"_No. Sherlock, you didn't say anything wrong" she gave him a small smile, _

"_I'm going to go grab a coffee." She let go of his hand and gave him a kiss on the forehead. _

_She knew it was wrong to be so willing to believe him, but she wasn't going to lie to herself, Sherlock was intoxicating. There was no part of her that could ever say no to him. And she knew in her heart of hearts, that he was going to break her at some point. He was going to realize that it was a mistake to choose Molly, and he would break her. Was she prepared for it, she didn't know, but she couldn't deny him, she knew that for sure._

_When she left, he grabbed his phone and began perusing all the open cases in his emails. He was so ready to leave the confines of the hospital. After reading a few of the cases, Mycroft walked in, umbrella in tow._

_"Hello dear brother" he said as he set his umbrella down next to the chair where he took a seat._

"_Mycroft" he said, "You know Molly will be back soon, she is not happy with you right now"_

"_I know she isn't, but you know why I did it," Mycroft said rather than asking. He gave his brother a careful glance. For the past couple of days, Sherlock seemed to be just as sharp as ever, but the only difference was his eyes had changed. He was no longer cold and calculating, but rather almost warm. Especially in the presence of Dr. Hooper. Mycroft knew all along that Sherlock never adhered to the idea of isolation, that sentiment was a weakness. It was something that Mycroft regretted more than anything else in his training of Sherlock. __  
_

"_I assume because you feel that she could fill John Watson's shoes, which I think is impossible. But that isn't what I expect from her. She is Molly Hooper not John Watson"_

"_That is the only reason?" Mycroft probed further._

"_I am sure there are many more reasons, Mycroft, but I don't want to get into your psyche. Sounds a bit treacherous" Sherlock laughed a little, "How is Andrea, I mean Anthea, by the way?"_

"_What?" Mycroft said tilting his head back in surprise._

"_Oh do you think I am that daft? I know how important she is to you"_

"_I did not know" Mycroft replied regaining his composure._

"_You didn't know I knew anything? I have for a long time, but I didn't understand why you kept it going."_

"_And you do now?" Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow._

"_It's beginning to become clearer why, but don't you think it is a little hypocritical brother?"_

"_Why is that?" _

"_That you spout off to me the virtues of being alone, yet you are dallying with a coworker at your own leisure"_

"_I wouldn't call I dallying, and is that how you feel about Dr. Hooper? Just dallying?"_

"_Of course not" Sherlock said disgusted at the mere idea that Molly was anything close to Anthea._

"_Then what would you call it?"_

"_I…" Sherlock paused when he heard the squeaking of Molly Hooper's sneakers, "I will tell you later brother, but for now, I would hope you had an excuse for Dr. Hooper"_

_She charged in and sat down on Sherlock's bed, he took her hand right away. _

"_Why did you move all my things without asking me?" she asked in a huff, although Sherlock's soothing touches seemed to have calmed her almost immediately. She tried to keep up an angry face for effect._

_"Well Dr. Hooper, I figured, it would be easier to do it now, while Sherlock isn't moping around the apartment. And as you know Dr. Watson's room is vacant, I figured if you were comfortable at Bakers Street, you could just stay. Permanently. This way you don't have to pay rent, I cleared that all up with your landlord, so don't worry about that. From what I gather of the flat, it is a major upgrade. Plus it is much closer to St. Bartholomew's for you, isn't that preferable?"_

"_Well." Molly thought for a second, "I would have liked to have been asked. But yes, that flat was horrid. I'm just unsure that Sherlock agreed to me moving in permanently"  
"Oh Molly, you are very welcome at Bakers Street. Please try to consider it your home" Sherlock told her squeezing her hand. "Plus now we can set up our own little lab! John always frowned upon that."_

"_Well" Molly said biting her lip, "that would be quite interesting"_

_Sherlock looked at his brother beaming with pride. Mycroft could only roll his eyes once before sauntering out the door._

"_Oh by the way, the nurse told my assistant you could leave tomorrow. I do hope that Molly is prepared for your constant barrage of requests at Baker's street." _

Sherlock opened his eyes again hoping that Molly was back from her coffee run. It was 2 am, but Mycroft was able to allow her to stay with him. There was a shred of guilt running through his veins asking her to stay, but he knew that without her he wouldn't be able to make it through. If she wasn't there, the mind palace would be destroyed and he would be back in the darkest holes of his mind craving a drug cocktail that would burn every self and wall in his mind. 


End file.
